


Bring It On Home

by hypernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Businessman!Cas - Freeform, Cas in a suit, Dean and Kids, Explicit Language, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kid Fic, M/M, Sexual Assault, Still legal, Student!Dean, Teacher!Dean, college!dean, daddy!destiel, older!Cas, younger!dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:31:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5392688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypernatural/pseuds/hypernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>21 year old Dean Winchester is just trying to get through college. He dreams of teaching preschool and finding his own peace, far away from Lawrence. But meeting 32 year old Castiel Novak at a bar throws him for an unexpected curve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Darling, You Send Me

Dean Winchester was excited. It was his first weekend out in his junior year at UofI at Chicago and he was beyond ready. After spending the entire summer working part time in his Uncle Bobby’s garage and part time at Miss Marie’s Daycare in the hot and sleepy town of Lawrence, Kansas, a night out in the city is all he craved. Dean and a few of his college buddies searched out a good, yet still cheap bar. They chose one, an establishment called Quincy’s, and hoped for the best. The best being smoking hot girls. Unbeknownst to the boys, it was also the night of Anna Milton of Kyro Corporation's birthday and the entire office was out for some celebratory drinks at Quincey’s as well. 

Dean was the first to enter the bar and as he surveyed the room, his spirits were squelched. The place was not packed with drunken, wild, and attractive girls, or even boys; only suits. Old guys in suits mingled at the bar and sat at tables, and each of the few pretty women in the establishment bore a sharply dressed man on her arm, parading him around like an accessory. Dean turned to face his friends once they had all taken it in. 

“Well, shit.” Benny was the first to speak, his strong arms crossed over his chest, “do you think we should leave?”

“Nah,” Ash’s heavy southern accent sounded as he clapped Benny on the shoulder, “ain’t no way we gon’ find more parking around this city. Not this time of night.”

“So we’ll stay.” Dean finally spoke decisively, almost harshly, pushing his way toward a table in the corner.

The boys got drinks and nursed them quietly at their table, trying not to show how much their moods were dampened by the disappointment of the night. Dean was the most visibly upset by the progression of the night. After a summer of failed girlfriends and subtle homophobia of Kansas, all he wanted was to find someone cute and have some fun. But instead, he was sat in the back of a smokey bar surrounded by corporate drones with his friends: Sailor Hat and Mullet. Just when he thought things were starting to look up. 

Dean went sullenly back to the bar to get more drinks, slightly tipsy but still withdrawn. As he waited in the sea of ties and shiny shoes, someone tapped his shoulder. He turned, still scowling to face them. He was met by a watchful gaze, a man standing in a forcedly casual manner, as if he was trying his hardest not to look like he had a stick in his ass. He was leaned against the bar in an awkward fashion, his blue eyes narrowed with a hint of mischief glazing his face. He was older than Dean, but not as old as many of the suits here and sported an intensely dark and messy head of hair. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Dean stumbled, shaking his head. He was a nervous apologizer. 

“There is no need to apologize. You did not do anything wrong.” The voice was gravelly and deep yet the man spoke so low and personally that it made Dean feel light headed.

“Sorry.” Dean kicked himself mentally. 

“I am not usually this forward, but I couldn’t help but notice you over there. I was wondering if I could have your phone number?” 

The man straightened up to his full height and natural, commanding posture. Dean didn’t think he could reject him even if he had wanted to. The guy was attractive and powerful and all Dean could do was nod dumbly. The man reached into his inner suit pocket and produced a pen, handing it to Dean. Scribbling his name and number on a bar napkin, Dean handed it to the man, unable to look him in the eyes again.

“Dean Winchester,” The man read the name in an assertive voice that caused Dean to snap his eyes up to meet the blue ones once again, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Castiel Novak.”

“Uh, you too.” Dean’s voice sounded small and he dropped his head back down and grabbed the beer bottles, hurrying back to his small table.

When he returned, his face was fiery red and he could feel himself sweating a little, completely flustered by the previous interaction. Never had Dean been so affected by someone with that much authority. He kept his head down as he dropped the bottles in front of his friends and sat back down. When he finally looked up at them, he was met with raised eyebrows and concealed smirks. 

“So, old guy chatting you up, yeah? Didn’t know men in suits were your type.” Ash teased, tossing a ripped off piece of napkin across the table as Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Oh yeah, Dean-o here is a total gold digger. Likes ‘em old and rich, am I right?” Benny went along with it, nudging at Dean’s restless arm. 

“Can it, assholes. Y’all are fun and games until I tell you about how I like dick in my ass then it’s way too far. Give it a rest.” Dean wasn’t in the mood for his friends’ jesting, and had a strange yearning to talk to this Castiel guy again. 

“Woah, simmer down there, lil’ buddy, we’re only messing with you. We ain’t like your folks, we don’t mind that you play for both teams. To each his own, dude.” Ash attempted to smooth the conversation over, but Dean just rolled his eyes again.

“I just want to go.” That wasn’t true. Dean just wanted to talk to the strong blue eyed man who was conversing with a middle aged guy right near where Dean left him. Castiel had a presence, even his elder seemed to bow his head slightly when talking to him as if showing respect. 

But Dean had good friends, and they had nothing keeping them in the bar anyway, so they stood up and stretched before moving unassumingly towards the door. As if an answer to his prayers, Dean managed to catch Castiel’s eye on the way out, feeling slightly more confident as they held eye contact. Still glancing towards Dean, Castiel patted the older man on the shoulder and excused himself out of the conversation, following Dean as the college trio slipped out the door into the warm August air. Sensing that Dean wanted to be left alone, Ash and Benny walked ahead towards their car as the green eyed boy hung back near the entrance. Finally, Castiel slipped through the same door and scanned the night until his eyes fell on Dean. Call him crazy, but Dean thought he saw the older man relax slightly as they looked at each other. 

“Hello Dean,” Castiel moved close, into his personal space, crowding him against the brick wall. Dean’s head was spinning and he could smell the mint and beer in Castiel’s breath and he was worried he was going to say something completely stupid. And he did. 

“I don’t fuck on the first date.” As soon as the statement left his mouth, Dean regretted it. It wasn’t even a true statement, but it was his mind’s last ditch effort to regain some of his confidence that was being sucked away by Castiel’s dominating presence. The older man’s face hardened momentarily, a pensive, calculating look that made Dean panic. But as soon as it was there, the look softened into a humored, fond look and Castiel leaned closer.

“Classy.” He muttered. As if on knee-jerk instinct, Dean closed the gap between their mouths and the pair were quickly making out in front of Quincey’s. Castiel held Dean firmly against the bricks by the hips, tracing his fingers over the skin on his hip bones as they kissed. Dean had slung his arms around the back of Castiel’s neck, holding tightly. 

When they finally pulled away, Dean turned his head to the side, suddenly unable to look Castiel in the eye once again. But the older man didn’t move, still pinning Dean against the front of the building. 

“Well, I should get back in there…” Castiel trailed off, glancing through the window of the bar door.

“No,” Dean snapped his head back facing Castiel’s, not know why he kept managing to sound so stupid, “Uhm, I mean, I don’t want you to… I don’t know… you’re right I’m sorry.”

“Please stop apologizing,” Castiel said commandingly, “you have not done anything wrong.”

“Would you want to like, get some ice cream or something?” Dean half mumbled awkwardly, studying the buttons on Castiel’s suit jacket. 

“How’d you know I can’t say no to ice cream?” The blue eyed man teased, stepping away and taking Dean’s hand in his own.

The pair walked comfortably towards the nearest ice cream shop, talking and laughing as if they had known each other before that night. Castiel seemed to lead Dean, but the younger man couldn’t find it in himself to care. The intimidation that plagued him from earlier in the evening slowly melted away the longer they talked, giving way for pure, uninhibited attraction. Dean loved every minute he spent with the man that night, and hung on to every word that he said. Castiel was intriguing and magnetic and Dean couldn’t get enough. They reached the nearest Dunkin Donuts/ Baskin Robbins combo shop and ordered, sitting in a corner table near the huge windows, smiling under the painfully bright lights. Under the flourescent bulbs, Castiel looked different, older and more chiseled. When he smiled at Dean, the creases near his eyes and mouth stood out more, but the sparkle in his clear blue eyes made him undeniably youthful. They had talked about easy topics during the walk, school and work and even the weather at one unfortunate moment-- Dean had shut that down pretty quick. 

“So you’re up in Chicago studying Human Development to teach preschoolers because you’re adorable, but where on Earth are you from, Dean Winchester, because I know a city boy when I see one, and you are not from here,” Castiel interrogated casually, raising one eyebrow.

“Kansas. Boring and hot as shit Lawrence, Kansas.” Dean explained gruffly, hoping Castiel wouldn’t ask any follow ups. 

“Ah, a good ol country boy we have here, taking on the city and already wooing the business men,” The older man teased, putting on an awful Southern accent.

"We ain’t even that country, you ass, Lawrence has like four fine establishments: an auto shop, a gas station, a liquor store, and a restaurant, I beg your pardon,” Dean countered, laughing at his own lame joke. 

To his relief, Castiel seemed to find it hilarious and laughed for a solid ten seconds, before asking, “So, have you got family up here, or are they all in Kansas?”

Dean bristled slightly, feeling this conversation nearing dangerous waters. “No, uh, they all live down there. I got a baby brother, his name is Sam.” Sammy was the only member of his family he liked to bring up, it was always safe to talk about him. “He’s only seventeen though, so still gotta finish up high school before running his geeky ass out of nowhere, USA and hop into the Ivy League or some shit. Real smart, Sammy is, I could only help him with his homework until he was in like second grade. I remember, I was about thirteen so middle school and I had to ask 9 year old Sammy for help with a problem. I was so embarrassed, but he’s humble too, doesn’t make anyone feel bad about it, neither.” Dean realized he was rambling, but it reassured him that Castiel didn’t appear at all disinterested in the unnecessary information about Sam and still looked just as riveted as before. 

“This Sam sounds like a great young man. Good looking family, you Winchesters must be too.” The comment was off handed and meant as a gentle flirtation, but Dean didn’t like the direction it was leading-- to talking about his mom, or worse, his dad. 

“I think I sucked it all out of Sammy,” Dean averted, winking, “he kind of resembles a moose or something.” Castiel merely nodded with a smile. 

The men finished up their ice cream and walked back to the bar again, hand in hand. When they got there, Dean stopped abruptly and cursed.

“What? What’s the matter, Dean?”

“I forgot about my friends. Shit. It was Benny’s car and they probably didn’t wait up for me and went back to the apartment. Shit. He’s gonna be so mad when I call him to come back and get me.” Dean ran his hands through his hair then hastily pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts to find Benny’s. 

“Dean, Dean, wait. I have an idea. What if you don’t call your friend and I gave you a lift. Or better yet, we could go back to my apartment. Together.” Castiel offered suggestively. 

Dean really liked the sound of that but similarly to a few hours earlier, all he could do was nod mutely. Castiel took his hand once again and they moved hastily towards the parking garage.


	2. Loveable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm going to try to update this story 1-2 times a week, but I have finals coming up so that might create a problem. Don't worry, I'm not going to abandon the story! And, in advance, I know that canonically Castiel is not bigger than Dean but in this AU, I kinda like the idea of Dean being younger and smaller than him so that's how I'm writing it!

Dean woke up groggy the next morning, and it slowly dawned on him that he was not in his shitty apartment that he shared with Benny and Ash. The bed was big, queen sized at least, and had a plush white comforter covering his body. As he rolled over, he remembered the night before, meeting Castiel, ice cream, and sex… oh the sex. The older man was still sleeping on his back, with one arm tucked beneath his head and the other outstretched towards Dean. 

I really know how to pick ‘em, Dean thought smugly. He moved as slowly as possible as to not disturb his partner, getting out of the bed and creeping into the adjoining bathroom, turning the shower on. It felt weird, sleeping in someone else’s bed and showering in someone else’s bathroom, Dean’s sexual encounters usually didn’t last after three am. He considered Castiel and wondered if this one was different, as in relationship material different. After getting out and drying, then wrapping a soft white towel around his waist, he stepped out of the bathroom and found Castiel awake and sitting up in his bed. 

Castiel was squinty in the morning, is what Dean acknowledged first, the blue of his eyes was barely visible as he looked at Dean in the dimly lit morning light. His hair was even messier, if possible, than when they had first talked at the bar, though Dean took full credit for that. He rubbed his hands over his face a couple of times before blinking hard and focusing his eyes on Dean, who was standing in the bathroom doorway like a deer in the headlights. 

“Good morning, Dean.” His voice was gravelly and extremely sexy as he greeted Dean, still trying to get his bearings first thing in the morning. 

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind, I have work in a little while and…” Dean didn’t know where he was going and decided to cut his apology short, knowing how much Castiel hated when Dean did that. 

“No, not at all, let me get you something to wear home,” Castiel ignored Dean’s words of protest and climbed out of bed, sliding into his boxer shorts that lay on the floor and walked purposefully to his closet. He opened the French-style doors to reveal a rack full of suits, not all that different to the one he’d been in last night, and drawers underneath. Castiel rummaged through the drawers pulling out various articles of clothing before handing them to Dean. 

They both dressed quickly and quietly, unsure of what to say at that exact moment. Dean wore a pair of huge sweatpants and an equally baggy shirt. The older man was quite a bit bigger than him, Dean noticed sullenly, and Castiel’s own sweats seemed to fit him much better. Castiel offered to make breakfast and Dean was starving and his shift didn’t start for two hours, so he accepted with a smile. They moved into this kitchen, and their dynamic was much more strained than the night before. Perhaps it was the lack of alcohol. But still, Dean was there, eating breakfast in the apartment of a man he’d just slept with, which was new. Castiel moved easily around his small kitchen, brewing coffee and scrambling eggs swiftly. 

“So,” Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably, “you’ve got a nice place.”

“Thank you.” Castiel looked back from the stove, momentarily flashing the same playful look as he had shown the night before. “You mentioned that you work at a daycare? It’s Saturday, I didn’t know they ran on the weekends.”

“They don’t,” Dean remarked as Castiel sat down and placed a plate of food in front of each of them, “I work part time there and weekends at Abellio’s, I serve.”

“That and college, you work hard.” Castiel commented pensively.

“Gotta pay the rent, y’know,” Dean shrugged and ate his eggs hungrily, “it’s not bad, anyway, I love the daycare but the kids are great, I was away all summer so I’ve missed them a ton and waiting tips well when you wear tight pants so I can’t complain.”

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows momentarily at the last remark, obviously displeased by the notion of Dean being objectified by strangers for a little extra cash. The rest of the morning went comfortably, natural conversation and much less intensity than the night before. Dean even thought that he could see himself spending more time with Castiel in the future. All too soon, it was ten o’clock and Dean had to get ready for work so he gathered his possessions, called Benny for a ride and paused at the door. 

“You have my phone number,” He looked into Castiel’s eyes with earnest, “please use it.”

“I would love to see you again soon, Dean. On a proper date. How does Wednesday night sound?” Castiel peered back at Dean, smiling hopefully. 

Dean’s heart leapt. Rarely, if ever, had he been on a date with a person who he’d slept with the night before. But Dean wanted to, he really wanted to. Even though he has to be at the daycare early on Thursday because it’s his morning shift, he didn’t pay that any attention. 

“Yes, I’ll see you then.” He replied automatically.

“Great,” Castiel smiled brightly, leaning in and kissing Dean like a whisper, “I’ll text you the details and to get your address.”

With that, Dean kissed the older man one last time, savoring it, then stepped out of the door and descended down the stairs to where Benny was waiting in his beat up Ford. 

 

The weekend went by easily, with minimal hassle at the restaurant, then it was back to the weekday grind. Tuesday was his afternoon shift at the daycare and Dean walked over to Ms. Rayne’s Child Care Center after class. The kids were outside when he came in, so the building was very quiet. The secretary, a sweet old retired lady named Mrs. Sullivan greeted him from her desk by the front door.

“Dean, honey, how are you? Is school going well?”

“Hey Mrs. Sullivan, everything is great. It’s really nice to be back in Chicago.”

He chatted politely with her for a few minutes before walking back to the staff lounge to put his school stuff down and eat a quick snack. He heard the preschoolers filing in through the side door from the courtyard and finished up eating, figuring he had a few minutes as the morning teachers wrapped up and the kids wound down. Dean left the lounge and went into the next room to the right, which was the infant room. It wasn’t nap time, so four of his coworkers were sat in the play pen corner, surrounded by eight babies who were looking and crawling around. He stopped in to say hello to Jo, Charlie, Meg, and Ruby as they wrangled the excited little things. Jo stood up with a baby in her arms to greet him.

“Hey Dean, what’s new? How are the walkin’ and talkin’ kids?”

“They’re great, I’ve missed these kids a lot, they seem a lot older as four year olds than three,” Dean smiled as Jo handed him the baby she was holding, “who is this little one?”

“This is Nadia, she loves hair,” Jo laughed as the little girl reached her hands up and tried to grab a handful of Dean’s hair.

“Some of them never seem to grow out of it,” He responded fondly, handing Nadia back to Jo, “I’ve gotta run, Jodie will skin me alive if I’m late.”

 

The excitement of four year olds never ceased to amaze Dean. As soon as he stepped into the classroom, several little hands reached up at him as they ran to greet him with screams by the door. He moved further into the room and crouched down and took turns hearing the wild stories of his kids.

“Mr. Winchestah I just went on the swings!” Melanie exclaimed.

“Mr. Winchestah my parents bought a dog and I named him Superman!” The next little boy, Easton called out.

“Mr. Winchestah! Mr. Winchestah!” Their mispronunciations of his name and various pieces of preschool news surrounded him as he smiled and responded to each of the announcements. He hadn’t even noticed that Jodie had slipped out. The teacher on shift, Hannah, was preoccupied in the corner setting up an activity, and the assistant working with Dean today, Jessica was helping a little autistic boy, Cameron, pick up the blocks he was playing with. Finally, Dean stood back up, towering over the swarm of four year olds. 

“Alright munchkins, news time has ended, time for you to take your seats so we can play some games.” He herded the small bodies in the direction of their beanbags on the floor.

 

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur of loud noises, bright colors, and exhaustion. By the time Dean made it back to his bed that night, he was hardly aware that he had a date, yes a date with Castiel Novak the next night. It took him two hours to fall asleep that night. He was tempted to go back on his phone and read the text conversation again, that he had already committed to memory.

Pick you up. 6:30, a surprise.

Dean woke up the next morning just as excited as he had gone to bed the night before. He was going to see Castiel again in ten hours. He got out of bed and got ready, then ate cereal in the quiet kitchen alone. Benny stumbled out of his room ten minutes before Dean had to leave for class and started grumpily making a cup of coffee. Dean stayed quiet. He knew Benny well enough from living with him for two years to wait until Benny started the conversation, or else it would be like talking to an angry, cursing, brick wall. For a while the only sound in the room was the coffee machine running, until Benny yawned and rubbed his hands over his face. 

“What are you up to today, Dean-o?” His voice was rough and still a little hostile, but he was trying.

“I’ve got class until three, then I’m going out tonight.” He answered vaguely. This response seemed to perk Benny right up.

“Out? Like out out? Like out on a date out? With who? How did this happen?” Benny rapid fired his questions like a machine gun. 

“Yes out, I can go on dates, can’t I?”

“You usually don’t from my experience,” Benny cut in.

“Well I am,” Dean said, annoyed, “with that guy from the bar.”

“You mean the one that picked you up and I came and got you from his nice ass apartment? That one?” Benny’s eyes were wide now, and he was ignoring his coffee that had just finished.

“Yeah, er, Castiel, that’s the one.” Dean rubbed his neck awkwardly, not knowing how Benny was going to react. Sometimes his friends were all jokes about Dean’s bisexuality and other times they wanted nothing to do with it, there was very little in between. 

“Use protection, my man,” Benny winked, apparently feeling in the joking mood, “don’t want some little Deans running around do we?”  
Dean laughed, relieved and rinsed out his dishes then left for class. The whole day, his mind stayed on an attractive, powerful, blue eyed man who he was going on a date with. Several people asked what was wrong with him, as he would zone out so many times during conversations. He finally got to go home and took another shower, then debated like a girl on prom night over what shoes to wear with his button up. He started getting unnecessarily nervous about twenty minutes before Castiel was supposed to arrive, and debated calling and telling him he couldn’t make it. Luckily, he didn’t and at 6:32 Dean’s buzzer rang, making his heart jump in his chest


	3. That's Where It's At

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay some angst and a little cliffhanger, I'm proud of myself with my uploading- i'm doin alright!  
> tw for attempted sexual assault

Dean walked down the stairs and out to the front of his apartment where Castiel stood, waiting in a suit. Suddenly, Dean felt overdressed and kicked himself for not thinking that a successful businessman like Castiel would show up in a suit. But, he smiled anyway and met him at the gate, opening it.

“Hey,” He said breathlessly.

“Hello Dean.” Castiel smiled that warm smile and stepped back. 

“I.. uh..” Dean swallowed his apology, “don’t really own a suit. I hope I’m not underdressed.” It came out apologetically anyway, but Castiel didn’t comment.

“Dean, you’re in college I didn’t expect you to have a suit. I had to come straight from work, that’s why I’m dressed like this.” Castiel waved his hand as if brushing away the insignificance of this worry. 

They got in the car and the first few minutes were quiet as Dean searched for words. Castiel spoke first.

“So, do you live with those boys that were with you the other night?” His voice edged on jealousy but Dean couldn’t figure out why.

“Yeah, Benny was the one who picked me up from your place. He’s from Louisiana, we keep him around because he has a car and can bake a mean pie. And Ash is from Alabama and he’s like a certifiable computer genius. They make my farm boy ass look like nothing. But they’re great. I met Benny freshman year in Professor Roman’s economics class which was basically worse than hell. We helped each other pass and have been friends ever since. I met Ash at a party last year, he was really drunk and passed out on a pool table, so I got him back to my dorm and let him sleep there.” Dean finished with a shrug then paused, “I feel like I’ve told you everything about me, what about you, mister grown up?”

“Well,” Castiel paused for a second, “I was born in Los Angeles to kind of weird parents. That’s why my name is Castiel. They named me and all of my siblings after angels-- something about the little angels of L.A… I don’t know they were religious kooks. I grew up in church because my father was a preacher then I went to college in Colorado and now I work in management at Kyro Corp for the past eight or so years.” 

“So how many little angel Novaks are there out there?” 

“Of course,” Castiel rolled his eyes and laughed, “there are six of us. I have three older brothers: Michael, Gabriel, and Luke-- well, his name is actually Lucifer but only my parents can call him that without a fight breaking out. He changed it to Luke on his eighteenth birthday. Then I have two little sisters, Temperance and Zoey--Zophiel, she’s around your age actually, just turned 22 in August. And that’s it. I told you our names were weird.” He raised his eyebrow and glanced at Dean as he drove. 

“Hmm,” Dean considered this new information, “do they all still live in L.A.?”

“Oh no, we all got out of there as soon as possible. Let’s see... Michael’s the oldest and he left for college when I was eight. He lives in St. Louis now. Gabriel is in New York, Luke is in Colorado, Penny just moved to Florida, and Zoey goes to University of Oklahoma. And I’m here. There are Novaks all over the place.” Castiel laughed at his own joke as they pulled into a restaurant parking lot. 

Castiel and Dean walked leisurely into the fancy restaurant, and Dean felt like he was a little kid again, too young to be in such a nice place without a parent. He took Castiel’s hand abruptly, holding it just a little too tight, not sure why he was intimidated. He’d been to nice dinners before, but as they entered Dean felt less like he was on a date and more like he was being babysat by the looks he received from the other waiting patrons. Castiel seemed to sense that as he asked for the reservation, squeezed Dean’s hand, then removed it to put it possessively on his lower back, guiding him to a waiting bench. They sat for ten minutes and Castiel wouldn’t keep his hands off of Dean. He kept one hand on the younger man’s thigh the whole time, occasionally squeezing it, or rubbing small circles with his thumb. It seemed a little weird to Dean, but he couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling he got from Castiel being close to him.

Finally, they were sat and enjoyed an intimate, uninhibited meal together chatting about easy topics and cracking jokes the whole time. Everything went perfectly until they walked out of the door. They had decided to get ice cream again-- Dean’s idea, he loved ice cream-- and figured it would be easier to just walk there and back. On the way there, Castiel decided to stop off on a little back alley into a convenience store to use the restroom and Dean was waiting outside for him to come back. A group of four men, older than Dean, maybe around Castiel’s age and definitely drunk approached from across the street, stumbling, slurring, and laughing hysterically. 

“Hey, Marty, look what we got here. Got a real pretty one here.” One of them laughed, Dean wasn’t sure if he was talking about him.

“Oh yeah got a cute little one here, pro’lly aint even legal, are ya baby?” The one assumed to be Marty responding, stepping too close to Dean. 

“Get the fuck away from me.” Dean growled, he knew how to defend himself, he was a man for god’s sake. 

A third one stepped closer and soon Dean was backed against an alley wall. The only chatter on the street were the calls of the drunk men. Nobody could hear him. One of them reached out and put a hand on Dean’s hip. Dean pushed the hand away with force. That only seemed to anger the others. Marty slammed Dean hard against the wall by the shoulders, pressing close to his face.

“Now, now, we got a feisty little bitch here don’t we? Don’t worry, sweetheart, pretty soon you’ll be beggin for it. Who let a pretty little thing like you out all by yourself?” A breath of beer and cigarette smoke assaulted Dean’s senses.

He wondered where Castiel was, why this was happening to him, why the fuck he couldn’t just fight back. He tried his hardest not to cry, but the more he squirmed, the tighter this Marty held him and the more scared he became. They were going to take him and do terrible things to him and Dean just wanted somebody to help him. He was sobbing pretty soon, incoherent mumbles of ‘please’ and just wishing that Castiel would come back. He felt the men’s hands on his body, and one started to work at his belt. 

Then the store door opened slowly at first, then Dean heard it slam open with a crash and he heard yelling. He thought it was Castiel, but he couldn’t trust his own senses at this point. There was banging and screaming and the sounds of fists on flesh as Marty was pulled off of him and Dean crumpled to the ground in a ball. He heard sirens and more yelling but all he could do was sit on the ground and cry like the little bitch his dad had always said he was. Finally, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Dean flinched. He looked up and it was Castiel, with a bleeding nose and tears in his eyes. Dean began to cry again. He hated himself and he hated that he caused this, he couldn’t fucking defend himself and now Castiel was crying and hurt and it was his fault. He let Castiel help him to his feet, careful and quiet. Everything seemed dull, he felt like he hadn’t breathed in a year and his vision was splotchy. There was an ambulance for him, he doesn’t remember being put in the back but somehow he was sitting there and there were sirens and Castiel’s hand was clutching his, they were both still crying. Castiel kept saying something that Dean couldn’t hear too well, the blood was rushing too loudly in his ears. Finally, on the ride in the ambulance, exhaustion overtook him and he fell asleep. 

Dean woke up in a hospital room with a headache. It was morning and his immediate thought was panic because he had the morning shift at the daycare. He had an IV in his arm and was in a private room, wearing a hospital gown. Dean shifted, attempting to will his stiff legs into action to find his phone and call his job. Castiel was sleeping in the small recliner, his arms crossed, a pensive look on his face, and small amounts of dried blood around his nose and mouth. Hearing Dean move, Castiel’s eyes shot open and he sat up, panting slightly, eyes bloodshot. 

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice was low and wrecked, “I don’t know what to say.”

“What happened to me? What happened to you? Were we in a car crash?” Dean was confused but his head still hurt. Castiel’s eyes filled up with tears again.

“They told me this might happen.” He wiped his eyes briefly, “So after we got dinner last night, I stopped in this shitty back street, which I shouldn’t have, to use the bathroom. And four men they… You were assaulted, Dean.” 

“I was what?” His voice cracked and his heart race.

“I came out of the store and they had you..” Castiel cleared his voice, “pushed against a wall. I got them off, kicked their asses, but they really did a number on you. You didn’t stop crying, and you wouldn’t say anything. We got you into the ambulance and you sat for a while staring and me and crying. Then you passed out. They think it was a concussion, they hit your head pretty good. They said you might not even know your name when you woke up. I’m so sorry Dean.”

That was the phrase. As soon as he said it, Dean remembered everything. The men, their words, their hands, their breath, everything. He remembered crying and thinking that he deserved this, it was his punishment for being a fag, just like his dad had always said. Then he was crying again, right there in his hospital bed and his chest felt too tight, like his heart was going to burst out. Everything was muted again, and all he could feel were those hands all over him, trying to take off his belt. Then Castiel was holding his hand again, keeping Dean from floating away into his panic. Dean gripped tight to that hand until his breathing slowed, and all he was concentrated on was the slight periodic twitch of Castiel’s fingers against his hand, one by one in a soothing manner. His head was pounding again, and he knew he would never make it to the daycare that day, but it felt okay because Castiel was there, right next to him. 

“Cas?” The nickname croaked shakily out of his throat and the older man looked up, “thank you, for saving me. I tried, I really did, but they were just bigger than me and there were three of them and I’m sorry that you got hurt, I really tried sir.”

The address slipped out with his emotions before he could stop it. He felt Cas tense with confusion and discomfort. He was trying to explain himself to his dad, but it wasn’t his dad, it was Castiel. It scared him and his head hurt and he just wished that hell would open up and swallow him whole. 

“Dean,” Cas cleared his throat again, “I really care for you, more than I should-- probably-- for a boy your age. Do you want to tell me anything about what’s going on up there?” He gestured to Dean’s head, “you seem like there’s something you need to talk about.”  
Dean considered this then took a really deep and shuddering breath.


	4. Doin' You Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a little longer, holidays- ya know? Happy New Year and may 2016 be awesome for everyone! Also, the chapter titles are kind of random-- they're all Sam Cooke lyrics that I think kind of relate to the chapter- so there's that. Thank you for all the reads and kudos, it means a lot!

Dean didn’t know what to say. He had just fucked up, like really fucked up but Cas seemed calm, like he understood even though he couldn’t. There was a lot he could tell him, but he didn’t know how, and he didn’t know why. Dean sat there for a minute, eyes wide and tired and scared. Castiel sat still, gripping the younger boy’s hand, patiently, but equally as scared. There were still tears in Dean’s eyes and when he blinked they fell onto the white sheet covering his legs. 

“He, uhm, he always makes me call him sir,” The first sentence came out shakily and hollow like the whispers of the dead. Dean’s voice cracked pitifully and more tears swelled, blurring his vision again, “my father. He has always made me call him sir and he doesn’t like me. Well, he doesn’t like faggots.”

Dean was staring off into space and he suddenly became cold and started shaking. Cas’s eyes filled with tears as well, and he wiped them away swiftly with his free hand. It was quiet for a very long time after that, and it was uncertain whether that was the end of the conversation. Castiel just held Dean’s hand fiercely and they both cried silently. 

“My mother was so beautiful, and the kindest lady you’d ever want to meet. They really loved each other, you know. My dad wasn’t like this before. He used to hug me and built me a tree fort, the whole nine yards. Our house caught fire and Mom died. It was in Sammy’s bedroom, he was just a little baby. After that, Dad didn’t look at us the same. Everything was ‘yes, sir’ or ‘no, sir.’ We moved over and over again, and poor Sam never knew anything else. It wasn’t so bad for a few years, Dad would drink all night and I’d put Sammy to bed. But, uh, he would come home sometimes and I’d still be up. I liked watching movies, whatever was on, lots of chick flicks and that. He walked in and it was some movie and the boy was shirtless, just one scene but Dad was drunk. You could probably guess the rest-- called me a faggot then yelled for an hour about being punished for watching queer shit and a bunch of other rather vulgar things that I think our neighbors would have liked to not hear. He just pushed me around, smacked me a few times and said if I liked to fuck boys so much then I should just leave. But I didn’t because it was one time and Sam was only eight.” Dean paused again, and Castiel put his free hand on the younger man’s leg, squeezing it comfortingly, “It didn’t stop. He’d always find a reason to get mad. But what made it worth it was that he never touched Sam. I’ll tell you a little secret: whenever Sam would do something that I knew would make Dad flip his lid-- you know, break a window or cut his hair with safety scissors, before Dad came home, I’d go to the only gay bar in town and bring a boy home with me and make out with him until Dad got home and found both messes: Sammy’s little fuck up and me, his faggot older son kissing some guy in his bedroom. Guess who got beat? Worked like a charm for years.”

“Dean,” Cas croaked, chiming in after another long silence, “you deserve to be saved, too.”

“It’s okay now,” Dean said emphatically, “Dad’s sober, he apologized for hitting me, he went to rehab and everything. I know it’s not his fault, no guy should have to lose the love of his life like that then watch his son become such a disappointment-”

“You are not a disappointment,” Castiel cut in pointedly, “look, I may have not known you for very long but I can read people, Dean Winchester. You are brave and giving to the point of self sacrifice. You are capable of so much love and forgiveness and that is incredible. But you have to forgive yourself. Do not let a childhood of violence make you think that that is all you deserve. You can not blame yourself for your father’s views on your sexuality of what he did to you growing up. It is amazing that you have the capacity to forgive that much atrocity but it should not be at the cost of your self worth. You deserve to be saved, Dean.” Cas repeated the same phrase like an echo. 

“Nobody has ever said things like that to me, not since I was four, not since my mom said them.” Dean’s voice sounded small and tired, and his eyes were drifting off. 

“They’re all true,” Cas said adamantly, brushing gently at Dean’s forehead.

“Hmm, maybe you should be my therapist instead of my boyfriend,” The younger replied with a small smile before letting his eyes drift closed, and Castiel simply dropped a kiss on his head. 

 

When he woke up again, a nurse came in and told him he was being released. He still had a headache, but was glad that the nightmare of last night was coming to an end. Benny and Ash were probably still in class, and Dean wondered if anyone had bothered to tell them he was in the hospital. He mulled this all over as he put on clean clothes that Cas brought (a little baggy but still comfortable) and slowly made his way towards the exit, Castiel steadying him with every step. 

“He needs somebody around for a few days, to watch over him when he sleeps and make sure nothing happens with his head.” The doctor spoke to Castiel.

The blue eyed man pulled a tight smile, nodded, and thanked the doctor before they got into his car and drove silently to Dean’s apartment. When the car was parked, neither of them moved to get out and neither of them spoke. It was a tense, regretful silence. 

“Listen, Dean, I understand if you don’t want me around-”

“I’ve never told anybody,” Dean cut him off, quiet but fierce, “all of that stuff I told you, I’ve never told anybody out loud before. Don’t you go thinking you’re getting rid of me that easily.”

Castiel smiled and gave him that same fond look as the previous week when they had first met. Cas took Dean’s hand and held it carefully, rubbing his thumbs in slow circular motions. 

“I’m really glad it was you. Those men, they could have gotten me any time, any random place-- hell, I could have been with Ash when it happened. But it was you, and I’m grateful for that. I’m happy that I know you.” Dean didn’t look at Cas’s eyes when he said this, but he felt Castiel’s eyes on him. They both understood the message that neither of them was saying out loud. 

When Benny and Ash came home from class, it was evening, and Dean and Cas were on the couch dozing with a movie playing in the background. Dean sat up when they came in, and by their faces he knew he looked as bad as he felt. Their expressions were confused and worried and shocked all at the same time.

“Dude, what the hell happened to you? You didn’t come home last night and we figured you were at the old guy’s house but now you come home looking like you just got hit by a train! What is the matter with you?” Benny whispered in a heated anger, eyes flickering dangerously between Cas and Dean. Dean didn’t want to tell them what really happened, he didn’t want to relive all of that terrible detail, so he watered it down for them.

“We went out last night, some drunk guys jumped me when Cas wasn’t around. They banged me up pretty good and I fell out so we went to the hospital. I was concussed so they kept me for the night to make sure I didn’t die and stuff. It’s not that big of a deal. I was hopped up on pain meds most of this morning, my head wasn’t on straight or a would have called you guys right away.”

“Dean,” Ash began sharply, but as he processed the excuse his anger ebbed away and his face softened, “I’m just glad you’re okay, man. We were worried something happened.” The sentiment was nice, but Dean had had enough sappiness for a lifetime.

“Okay, mom, I love you too. Now go on, get out of here, I’m tired of looking at your ugly mugs and I have a rather beautiful man next to me that I would like to myself if you don’t mind.” He shooed them away and chuckled at their dramatically disgusted faces as they went.  
Cas rubbed Dean’s shoulder gently as he awoke, squinting at the daylight pouring through the windows. They said nothing for a little while, just sat and soaked in one another’s warmth and grasp.


	5. Too Young To Fall In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm finally back with another chapter! We finally get to see a little more of Cas's insecurities. Thanks so much for 1000 hits it means the world that people are interested in reading my story! Likewise, every comment I get makes my day and as a writer, thank you to every person who takes the time to comment or leave kudos on this story, it really inspires me and motivates me to keep writing. You all are the best, I can't thank you guys enough. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Dean ended up taking the rest of the week off of school and work after the incident and concentrated on healing himself, and even let Cas talk him into contacting a therapist. The rest of September rolled on easily and he cherished every minute that he spent with Castiel. Late October was upon them, and the couple were lounging on Dean’s run down couch, flipping through channels and enjoying the company. Castiel pulled Dean close to him, kissing the top of his head before speaking in a low voice. 

“Babe, I’ve been thinking…”

“Well that’s never a good thing,” Dean retorted with a laugh.

“Shut up, I’m serious. My company is having a party, like a Halloween party I guess but without the costume part and I want you to come with me. I want you to meet my co workers.” Castiel sounded serious and Dean’s heart began to race. 

“I’m pretty sure they know who I am, seeing as you picked me up at a company outing -- Cas, you dog.” Dean attempted to lighten the conversation but Castiel simply rolled his eyes and looked generally unamused.

“Dean, do you want to or not?” He used his authoritative voice that never failed to intimidate but also get Dean a little hard.

“Yes, babe, of course I want to.”

 

Castiel had failed to mention to Dean that is was a week away, and when October the 27th approached much too quickly, Dean was scared to death. He was going to be paraded around a room of adults as Cas’s young little arm piece who was still in college. The small talk would be unbearable, but even worse would be the judgemental looks he knew he would surely draw from the wealthy older men. When Cas came to get him, Dean was sweating a little in his best wedding suit. He felt pale and shaky as he heard his boyfriend climbing the stairs and calling his name. 

“Dean, babe, are you ready? We have to go.” Dean met him on the stairs, still scared out of his wits, hands shaking as he grasped Castiel’s. 

“Yes I’m here and I’m on time. You should be proud of me.” He flashed his brightest smile as they descended towards the street. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Cas inquired as they buckled into his car.

“Nothing. I mean,” Dean paused, remembering the conversation they had not too long ago about talking about emotions openly, “I’m nervous. I’m really scared to meet these important old rich guys.”

“It’ll be all okay,” Cas took Dean’s hand as he drove, smiling softly, “you’re charming and cute and mine and everyone will love you. I promise you it will be okay.” He brought their intertwined hands up to his lips and kissed Dean’s fingers lightly. 

The party was surprisingly quiet, compared to the wild college parties that Dean was mostly exposed to. Everyone was dressed up, but the general ambiance of the get together was more casual than Dean thought it would be. People milled around in groups, smiling bright white smiles and laughing just a little too loud. There was soft rock playing over some hidden speakers, which immediately lifted the younger man’s demeanor. But he was still pretty intimidated as they walked in and every pair of eyes in the room seemed drawn to the pair of them. Castiel did not seem to mind, he still stood in his confident stance as Dean cowered somewhat into his side and the older man held a hand on his lower back. The first to approach them was an older black man with a small greying beard. He smiled mostly with his eyes as he approached, shaking Castiel’s hand gruffly without a word. 

“Turner, how are things?” Castiel’s voice sounded unlike any tone he had ever heard the man use. It was low, rocky, and totally hot.

“Not bad, Novak, yourself? I see you have a.. friend with you tonight.” The pause indicated the homophobic discomfort that Dean was all too familiar with, but the expression on this man’s face showed a good natured look. 

“This is my boyfriend Dean Winchester. Dean, this is Rufus Turner.” Castiel threw both Rufus and Dean off balance with the blunt introduction, but they shook hands and exchanged polite greetings none the less. 

Castiel carried on a dull conversation full of small talk before Rufus excused himself and a pretty red haired woman approached with a beaming grin. She was pale and delicate but at the same time spunky and energetic as she clacked toward them in her heels. Immediately, she pulled Cas into a hug that would have been rough if she weren’t half his size. It ended up being her slinging her slim arms around his neck and kind of dragging herself closer to him as Castiel laughed lightly and hugged back, engulfing her narrow shoulders in his arms.

“Castiel, I’m so happy that you came,” She smiled brightly before turning to Dean, and her smile got wider, if that was even possible, when she glanced him over, “And you must be Dean! I’m Anna Milton, Castiel mentions you all the time!”

Dean smirked at Cas, who rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s nice to meet you, Anna.” The younger man offered a hand, but was jerked into an awkward hug and his face met a head of dyed red hair. Though it was uncomfortable, the hug was weirdly reassuring and Dean felt significantly more relaxed. 

“I don’t know if Castiel ever told you, but the night you guys met, at that bar, it was actually for my birthday and I practically had to beg Castiel to go, he’s not big on parties.” She shrugged, “but I’m guessing he’s glad I dragged him out that night.” 

“You’re right on that part,” Cas winked at Dean and rubbed down the middle of his back lightly, and Dean suddenly wanted to leave that party immediately and do something unspeakable to his boyfriend. He shook those thoughts out of his head as a new man appeared in front of him, slinging his arm around Anna’s shoulders. 

“Dean, this is my husband, Jack. Jack, this is Castiel’s boyfriend Dean Winchester.” The men shook hands and nodded at each other.

“I haven’t seen anyone this young around Kyro in a very long time,” Jack laughed.

“I’m graduating next year,” Dean didn’t miss the shocked look that flickered toward Cas momentarily so he added, “from college. U of I at Chicago.”

“Ah, a college boy. So young and full of beer. What are you studying?” Jack continued to make jokes good naturedly. 

“Early Childhood Ed. I work as a teaching assistant at a daycare right now. Won’t ever be rich, but I love those kids, so it’s worth it.”

“Ethical young man, Castiel, it looks like you have a keeper.” Jack Milton winked and patted Dean’s shoulder.

Dean felt Castiel’s big hand rest on his outside hip and begin to pull him away, as the older man excused them and they walked toward the food setup. It was abrupt, and Dean could sense the irritation that Cas was exuding. Dean stopped following him, and grabbed Castiel’s hand, leading them to a private doorway, then turning to meet blue eyes.

“Cas, baby, what is the matter with you? You just dragged me away from a conversation with a nice guy, with your friend.” Dean was aggravated and confused as to why his boyfriend, who was normally so composed and polite, was acting like this. Castiel paused, sighed, and ran his hands through his hair, then shook his head. Dean frowned and rubbed his shoulder, “What? Do you not like him?”

“No, Dean, I don’t like him. He’s cocky and condescending and smarmy. But mostly, I didn’t like how he was talking to you. He wouldn’t shut up about how young you are- made it sound like you were some teenager and I was an old perv. I don’t know, babe, sometimes I wonder too. Like, would you be better off with somebody younger? Someone your own age?” He ran his hands through his hair again.

“Oh Cas, babe, look at me,” his blue eyes held more sadness than anger at that point, “I wouldn’t trade you for the star quarterback from my high school. I wouldn’t want anybody else in this whole world. I wouldn’t care if you were sixty, I want to be with you. I care about you. I’m sure Jack was just trying to make conversation because, unlike you, he may not be skilled in relating to younger people. Okay? Don’t worry. Whether I’m 21 or 221, I still want you.” They kissed briefly, aware that they were in a room full of people who most likely weren’t too keen on homosexual displays of affection, then went off to get food. 

The rest of the night was calm, without any more incidents, and after several hours the boys were collapsed on Castiel’s bed kissing lazily, post sex. Dean was exhausted, and he felt his eyes closing more and more as Cas touched their lips together.

“Babe,” Dean simply hummed in response drifting away into sleep, “Thank you for coming with me tonight. I’m glad you were there.”  
The younger man mumbled words that he couldn’t quite remember before passing out completely. What he would never know and what Cas would remember for the rest of his life was that Dean, all sleepy and blissed out, had barely coherently muttered “I love you” to Castiel before succumbing to his exhaustion.


	6. Rome Wasn't Built in a Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye, I can't believe I've written over 10,000 words on this story. Thank you all so much for the reads, kudos, and comments. It means the world as a writer to see people enjoying my work. I anticipate around 4-5 more chapters of this, but who knows, that number could certainly change. Enjoy!

Castiel didn’t mention it. He knew if he brought up the whole ‘I love you’ thing, it would only make Dean all nervous and rambling and apologetic. So, he held onto it. He made a vow to never forget that moment. He knew Dean loved him, and Cas was determined to show Dean in every way possible that he loved him back. 

A few days later, it was Halloween, and Cas and Dean were together, as per usual. Dean had no classes that day, and Castiel had stopped in during his lunch break to hang out before going back until seven. Cas was making sandwiches, moving around Dean’s kitchen with the greatest of ease, before sitting down at the dilapidated table and calling his boyfriend over. Dean managed to tear himself away from his football video games long enough to plop down across from Cas and mutter a ‘thank you’ before digging into his sandwich. The boy really did eat with the appetite of a growing kid. 

“Cas,” Dean stopped between bites, “I want you to come to my halloween party tonight. It’s at one of the frat houses, and I want you to come meet my friends.”

“Dean, I don’t know, do you really want some old-”

“Castiel, quit it with the old guy stuff. You’re in your early thirties and we’ve been over this: I’d bring you even if you were seventy.”

“Okay, Dean.” Cas smiled and shook his head. 

“Oh yeah, and Cas? It’s a costume party.” Dean grinned cheekily and all the older man could do was put his face in his hands and groan. 

Cas went straight back to Dean’s after work, where the younger man was waiting, flipping through channels on the couch, dressed in an orange jumpsuit with INMATE in large letters across the back. When he heard Cas enter, Dean turned with a devilish grin on his face and stood up, gesturing up and down expectantly. 

“What do you think?”

“Dean, that’s hot.” Was all the older man could croak out, his voice deep and lustful. 

Dean simply smirked and tossed a grocery bag full of clothes his way and motioned urgently towards the bathroom. Cas gave him a worried look but reluctantly went to change anyway. 

A cop and a prisoner, the classic pair. When Castiel came out of the bathroom in full police uniform, complete with legitimate looking silver handcuffs, Dean’s eyes widened comically. He straightened Cas’s collar absently, then ran his hands down the blue eyed man’s chest. 

“Hello officer,” He smiled suggestively, hands toying with the handcuffs around the belt of the costume, “wouldn’t it be a shame if you had to.. cuff me?”

“Dean,” Cas closed his eyes, pausing and breathing slowly for a few seconds before taking both of Dean’s hands in his, “I want to. Oh my god do I want to. But we have to leave, the party was your idea, remember?”

“I know, I know, but that was before I saw you in this costume. You look so…” Dean cut himself off by leaning up and kissing Cas’s lips hotly.

After they broke the kiss, Cas spun Dean’s body abruptly towards the front door, then wrapped his hands, partially covering the other man’s wrists that were pulled behind his back like an arrest, “Let’s go Winchester, move it.” Castiel felt an undeniable shiver as the younger boy moved forward. 

The party already seemed to be in full swing as the couple pulled up, loud music and flashing lights visible from down the block. Castiel was still a little uncomfortable going to a frat party at 32, but decided to suck it up so that Dean could have a good time on Halloween. As they entered, the party seemed more on the tame side, compared to some of the ones Cas had attended during his college days. There were costumed people dancing and drinking out of Solo cups and occasionally kissing, and Cas felt surprisingly more at ease as they walked deeper into the party. Somehow, Dean managed to find Benny and Ash in the poor lighting, standing with a few other guys Castiel had never seen before. 

“Hey guys,” Dean greeted with a charming smile, “This is Cas, Cas: this is Chuck, Gordon, and Garth.”

Castiel met them all with handshakes and nods as the skinny one, Garth, asked “So, what do you study?”

“I, uhm, am out of college. I work in upper management at an accounting firm, actually.” Cas replied awkwardly. 

An uncomfortable silence fell for a beat before Benny saved the day, retorting “Dean-o can pull just about anyone, he puts the rest of our sorry asses to shame.”

There was soft, polite laughter at his attempt, then Dean turned, fiddling with Cas’s collar without thinking and asking if he wanted to get something to drink. Out of habit, Castiel reached out to touch Dean as well, but could feel the agonizing avoidance of eye contact and distressed shuffling of feet by the other guys in their group, Cas opted to just take his hand and begin walking to wherever direction he thought the kitchen was in. 

“Dean,” Castiel whispered lowly when they got to a secluded part of the house, “can’t you tell that your friends don’t exactly appreciate the hot boy on boy action?”

“Oh, they can get their heads outta their asses, this isn’t the deep south. It’s Chicago, there are going to be people who aren’t straight. Just because they think it’s weird doesn’t mean we have to change ourselves. Benny and Ash are especially trying hard to be cool about my bisexuality so let’s just roll with it, okay? They’re college kids, they’ll get over it once beer pong starts.”

“Baby, there is no way on God’s great green Earth that I am going to be playing beer pong with a bunch of 21 year old frat boys.”

“Aw, c’mon Cas. If you’ll do this for me, I’ll let you bring those handcuffs to bed tonight and I know how bad you want that.” Dean pleaded, running his hands up and down Castiel’s chest. The older man just could not resist the offer.

“Fine, but we’d better not lose because I’m not fucking you if you’re drunk.”

“Oh, babe, you have obviously never seen me play beer pong. I’m a Winchester not a Losechester, Cas.” 

“I take that back. I’m not fucking you if you make one more stupid pun like that.” The blue eyed man laughed and kissed his boyfriend. 

 

They ended up kicking ass at beer pong. Castiel wasn’t sure if it was because Dean was really good (and he was right, he was really good) or if Benny and Ash were really bad and couldn’t hold their alcohol. They stayed for a while after the game, Cas not drinking much and Dean downing as much as his body could physically hold. Finally, Castiel made the executive decision to take Dean home, as it was almost midnight and mostly everyone except for Cas was shit faced, and to be frank, Cas was simply too old and too sober for college parties. 

However, Cas had failed to notice how slutty Dean became when he was really drunk. Of course he got handsy, but it was the talk that Dean slurred out the whole ride home that really got Cas riled up. 

“Cas, baby, I want you so bad right now. You should fuck me right now, right in the back seat of your car. That would be hot. C’mon Castiel, I need it.” The longer the younger man spoke the more his tone edged on desperate. He was painfully aroused, his skin was a burning red, and his breath was uneven.

“Baby, you’re drunk. You need to go to bed.” Cas tried his best to stay away from his demanding tone because he knew that did weird thing to Dean’s psyche. 

“Please, I want it, I need it, I want you…” Castiel knew Dean well enough at this point to know that when the green eyed boy got needy and submissive, that they were headed to dangerous waters and that Cas needed to take good care of his boy in his unstable state of mind. And there were few things that pleased Dean more than praise. Castiel took the younger man’s hand as he drove and just began to talk.

“Hey, hey, how’s my boy? How’s my good boy doing?”

“‘M doin’ real good ‘cept I want you to fuck me.”

“I can’t do that, baby, I’m sorry. But you’re gonna be real good for me right? Because you’re my beautiful boy.”

“I can be good for you,” Dean slurred, “So good.”

“Good boy. Now, just sit back and close your eyes and take really deep breaths, nice and slow.” Castiel put his hand on the back of Dean’s neck and rubbed gently on his hairline. 

They managed to get back to Dean’s apartment and all the way up the stair, Dean hanging heavily on Cas’s shoulders and trying to undo the buttons on his own orange jumpsuit. After much fumbling and hushed begging on Dean’s part, they managed into the apartment and all the way to the bedroom, where the younger man was still slurring incoherent syllables but was only half conscious. Cas stripped his boyfriend down to his boxers and tucked him under the covers before undressing and climbing in next to him. Dean held tightly onto Cas’s body as they lay there for a while, and the latter wasn’t able to tell whether or not Dean had fallen asleep yet. He turned his head slightly, so his lips were pressed onto the top of Dean’s head. 

“Dean,” Castiel waited and when no response came, he continued, “I love you.”


	7. The Living is Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGH. I am the absolute worst author in the entire world. I just went back through and reread this fic and realized I pretty much abandoned you all at a terrible spot. I feel so bad I went and wrote up a whole chapter tonight just to post for anyone still reading this poor fic. I am hoping to upload regularly, but I am also working on my period fic The Less Fortunate as well. But I hope to get this wrapped up pretty soon so that I stop torturing poor fic readers who just want something complete. If you're still reading this, I love you and I'm sorry.

Dean woke up the next morning with very little memory of the night before. Everything after beer pong was a blur. But it was reassuring to him that he arose in Cas’s arms, so he knew nothing too bad could have happened. He slipped out of his boyfriend’s grip carefully and went to the shower to rinse off the stench of alcohol that must have been suffocating Castiel the entire night. After his shower, Dean took three painkillers and drank what seemed like a gallon of water and proceeded to cook breakfast as Cas slept. His boyfriend wasn’t awake by the time the food was ready so Dean debated whether or not to wake him up, knowing that he had most likely given the poor guy a hard time the night before. Before the food got cold, he decided to bring it to him in bed.

“Rise and shine,” Dean whispered, gently rubbing the older man’s shoulder. Cas stirred and rubbed his eyes roughly, “I made you breakfast.”

“Mm, fit for a king,” Castiel’s voice was the raspiest Dean had ever heard it, “thank you, baby.” 

The pair sat in bed for half of the day, feeding each other and laughing like elementary schoolers. They both ended up falling back asleep around noon, dozing peacefully in each other’s grasp. Dean’s phone rang, jolting both of them from their sleep.

“Hello?” Dean answered without checking who it was, still drowsy. 

“Dean?” He recognized that voice immediately.

“Sammy, how are you, buddy?” 

“I’m doing alright. I applied to Stanford last week, and I’m nervous to know if I got in. How are things in Chicago?”

“They’re great, actually. I, uh, I have a boyfriend, actually he’s right here. His name is Cas. Say hi.” Dean held out the phone to Cas who exchanged sleepy greetings with Sam. 

“So, I called to ask if you were coming back for this Thanksgiving. I really want you to be there. Bobby’s coming and I’m sure Dad wants you to come, too.” 

“Sammy, I don’t know-”

“Please, Dean,” Sam cut him off petulantly, “please. I want you to come. Bring Cas, too. Please.”

“Okay, okay, calm your skinny ass down. I’ll be there, just… just don’t mention anything to Dad yet. And never wake me up with your incessant whining again, kid.” 

“Whatever, jerk.” Sam retorted, a smile in his voice.

“Bitch. I’ll talk to you soon, Sammy.” 

And with that they said their goodbyes and Dean leaned back against the headboards, sighing. Cas looked at him, waiting patiently. 

“So what do you think about meeting my family in Kansas for Thanksgiving?”

“Dean, are you sure? Of course I would want to go with you, but I want you to be ready for me to meet them.”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not excited but it’s bound to happen sooner or later, you know?” Dean shrugged. 

All Cas did was smile. 

 

November was almost over before they knew it, and Dean and Cas were boarding a plane to Kansas at 5:15 in the morning. Castiel, of course was grumpy and uncooperative, so Dean just kept pushing styrofoam cups of McDonald's coffee his way to keep the man vertical. They finally boarded the flight and caught up on some well deserved and needed rest on the way there. Their travels were long and dragged on the whole day until the pair were standing, hand in hand on the doorstep of his father’s home ready to knock. 

The house was fairly small, they had no need to accommodate more than a few people at a time, and John Winchester couldn’t afford anything luxurious. It was only a few miles away from Dean’s original family home, but after hopping around the country for over a decade and finally deciding to get sober, Dean’s father couldn’t bring himself to repurchase the old homes and everyone understood why. It was Sam that answered the door when they knocked, all lanky armed excitement and dimpled smiles. He hugged Dean immediately before pulling Castiel into a sort of one armed greeting hug as well. Sam hung around the pair as they entered the house with a kind of pained relief, as if they were water quenching a long drought. 

It was obvious that John Winchester wasn’t all that happy about Dean being home for the holiday and bringing a boy along with him. He didn’t bother to get up from his beat up recliner or pull himself away from the football game when they entered. Bobby Singer was the next to greet them, a cranky old friend of John’s from his job at the auto shop. He had lost his wife some years back to cancer so Dean thought that the two just suffered eternally together and wallowed in self pity. The man was gruff but surprisingly welcoming to the new addition.

“You gonna introduce me here, boy, or do I have to take wild guesses of this good man’s name.” Bobby said in a scolding manner.

“Yeah, Bobby. This is Castiel, my boyfriend.” Dean took the leap of faith and just put it all out there.

“It’s good to meet you and know my boy here isn’t gonna die a cranky old coot like me and his father.” That statement alone let out a whole lot of built up tension in the room. But there was still no word from John. “We were just waiting on you boys to eat, the food is nothing special, store bought ‘cause none of us idiots can cook for shit. We’ve been missing you around here, Dean.”

They all made their way into the cramped kitchen and sat at the dilapidated table filled with supermarket brand dinner fixings. The four of them sat in silence for a while, glancing periodically towards John’s chair, hoping he would join them. Finally, Bobby, the only one with enough guts to speak harshly to the old man piped up from his seat at the table. 

“John, get your sorry ass in here and away from that damn television and come meet your son’s boyfriend for Pete’s fucking sake.”

The screen went black and the chair creaked slowly, and Dean just wanted to hug the life out of Bobby, but was also kind of scared of the storm that was to come. John hadn’t been drinking, so Dean was banking on him coming around eventually and was pleasantly surprised. John entered with an obviously strained and fake smile plastered across his face, but a smile all the same, and immediately went over to shake Castiel’s hand.

“My apologies, fellas. I’ve got money on the Bears for this game and it was getting a little too close to pull myself away from.” 

Dean smiled as hard as he could at the positive start to the meal and subtly found his boyfriend’s hand underneath the table, squeezing it with excitement.


	8. Just For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly if I apologized every time I did my readers dirty, I would always be apologizing. So here's a general I'm sorry and a new angsty chapter with a little fluff to try to make up for it. To everyone who has left kudos and comments on this story, I appreciate you all so much for reading it. It will be a completed work by the end of the summer, you have my word. I love you all.

The evening started off very well. It was obvious that John wasn’t all that happy about his eldest son having a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend, but he was sober enough to be polite and pleasant about it. But there ended up being a bigger problem. The longer the night went on and the more wine John poured for himself, claiming he had it under control, the more prying the questions seemed to become. 

“How old did you say you were?” He demanded gruffly, narrowing his eyes almost protectively. 

“32.” Cas cleared his throat and wished he sounded more confident in that answer, but suddenly the focus was shifted to Dean.

“Jesus Christ, Dean, he’s ten years older than you! If you’re gonna live this way, at least find a man who isn’t some kind of pedophile and probably only likes you because you have the physical development of a twelve year old girl!” John slammed his fists on the table, enraging himself with every word. 

“Dad, stop!” It was Sam who finally spoke, “Just stop, please.” 

And Dean just sat there for a few minutes, trying his hardest to compartmentalize, trying his hardest to pretend like that didn’t just happen, trying his hardest to fight back the tears and the anger quickly rising in his chest. He tried until he decided he couldn’t anymore and stood up abruptly, throwing the cheap silverware onto his half eaten plate and wordlessly storming out of the house. He heard footsteps behind him, figuring it was Cas who would try to convince him that his father didn’t mean it and that he knows what he said wasn’t true at all and then they’d hug and kiss and he would feel a little better but it would still hurt, so Dean kept walking all the way down the street until he got to the rickety park he came too a lot that past summer, when he needed time away.

It was a terrible park, probably a safety hazard, and there weren’t enough kids in the neighborhood for anyone to play at it anyway. It had a ghostly, abandoned feel that Dean could relate to at the moment, so he sat down on one of the swings and closed his eyes as it groaned under his weight. He figured whoever had followed him out of the house had given up and gone back after they realized that he wasn’t stopping to talk, but he was wrong. The swing set moaned again as someone settled down on the seat next to him. Dean opened his eyes, and saw the only person he would want to see in that moment: Sammy. 

“I know.” Was all the younger boy said after a beat of silence. 

“You know what?”

“I know what you did for me, when we were growing up. I know and I never thanked you.”

“Sam, you don’t need to thank me. I’m your big brother, it’s what I’m supposed to do.” Dean closed his eyes again and swung softly. 

“You know that’s not true.” Sam paused, “I really thought he was better. That’s the reason I asked you guys to come. And not for nothing, but Dad seemed really upset when you didn’t even come see him last summer even though you were down here.”

“Now you see why.” The tightness in Dean’s throat was constricting his words.

“I get it. But I just thought that was a sign of improvement. That maybe you guys were ready to build the bridges back.”

“There never were any bridges. Not since Mom died.”

“Okay. I just wanted you to know that you’ve always been my hero of sorts and whatever that old drunk says about you won’t change that.”

“I know, Sammy. I love you, too.” Dean brushed the half formed tears out of his eyes and stood, clapping his brother on the skinny shoulder, a sense of resignation in every movement “I’m gonna go get Cas. The poor guy’s probably dying in there, we’re probably gonna go to a hotel and order food in. But I hope to see you again before we go.”

“Dean, don’t please. Don’t leave again. Just stay for the evening, then I’ll drive you and Cas to the motel for the night if you still want.” Sam’s voice edged on desperation and Dean gave in out of pity. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” 

“Yes, I’ll do this for you, you long haired whiner.” Dean nudged his taller brother’s shoulder as they walked side by side. 

“You really are a jerk, you know that?”

“Whatever you say, bitch.”

 

What they weren’t expecting when they got back to the house was exactly what they got. The single most tense scenario possibly imagined. Bobby was leaned against a counter, periodically rubbing his hands over his face in pure aggravated exhaustion. Cas was in his seat, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, face beet red from anger, and a small cut and bruise near his left eye. His hands were still balled into fists and he clenched them tighter periodically, trying to contain himself. John sat opposite him, with several bruises near his mouth and jaw, reaching his hand to the back of his head, and bringing back a hand smeared with blood. 

“Great of you two to show back up,” furiosity was curled behind Bobby’s sarcastic remark. 

“Cas, what happened?” Dean rushed over and began poking and prodding at his boyfriend’s wound, then hurrying to the freezer and retrieving an ice pack. Dean already knew what happened, but he refused to believe it. 

“Ask the guy who threw the first punch.”

 

After Dean had stormed out of the house, they were left in complete silence. Both of the younger boys were gone, and so were all buffers. 

“You had no right to say that. Absolutely no right.” Cas growled almost under his breath, staring predatorily at John’s drunken face. 

“You have no right to be fucking him,” John growled right back, those words sent Cas to his feet, tense all over. 

“Mind your own fucking buisness-”

“He’s my son! This is my business!”

“He told me. He told me everything that you did to him. You really, really messed him up. And I love him, so I’m trying to help undo everything that you did. You fucking coward! Still claiming him to be family, still trying to stake claim over the same little boy that you beat every chance you got. He’s still hurting. All of these years away from you and he’s still fucking hurting. And Dean tries for everyone else’s sake to pretend like he’s not, he tries to be everyone else’s martyr. But I’m done letting him do that, because I’m closer family to him than you’ll ever be!”

“I’m his blood, boy, you’d better watch yourself.” John’s warning did nothing to phase Castiel as he squared up his shoulders, now nearly chest to chest with the older man. 

“Family doesn’t start or end in blood, boy.” And that was the straw that made it all pour out. 

John swung first, catching the side of Cas’s eye with his wedding ring, and he didn’t get another hit in. Castiel grabbed John by the front of his shirt and slammed him with as much force as he could muster into the wall, landing punch after punch on his face until Bobby managed to force him off. Bobby stood between them until they both sat down, pointedly ignoring their wounds. Until the boys walked back in. 

 

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas apologized for what felt like the millionth time as they waited in the airport. 

“It’s okay.” That was the first response Dean had given in the hours since they’d left his dad’s house, “you kicked his ass. It’s what he deserved. It’s okay.” 

They didn’t speak much after that, until they landed back in Chicago and were pulling up in their taxi and Cas’s apartment. 

“I’m-” Cas began another apology, but stopped as Dean turned to glare at him. They were standing on the steps outside the apartment. It was dark and there weren’t many visible stars in the Chicago sky. “I just love you, a lot.” 

Dean couldn’t contain himself, the tears began to fall as the emotion of the previous day and the new revelation washed over him like an unstoppable tidal wave. He leaned on Cas’s chest and gripped his dress shirt tightly between his fingers like he would never let it go. 

“I love you. My God, I love you.”


	9. Change Gonna Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know where this went or how we got here. But thanks so much for reading, kudos, and commenting, it always means a lot to have feedback!

After that, things began to settle into a routine. Dean practically lived at Cas’s apartment and had several drawers full of his clothes. The pair always started their morning together, in a quiet, drowsy haze. After coffee and breakfast and dressing, they would half shuffle down to Cas’s car to get to where they needed to be: Dean to class or the daycare, and Cas to the office. It was comfortable, which was just what they both needed after a tumultuous few months, and it stayed that was for about a couple weeks, until the first snow, when a few things began to change. The first was by Cas’s doing, on a sleeting Sunday morning when they were laying in bed eating Chinese food straight out of the box and watching Jerry Springer for some reason neither of them was sure of. 

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think about moving the rest of your stuff in here?” Cas didn’t dare look in the direction of his boyfriend, in fear of the worst. 

“Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll probably have to help Benny and Ash find a new roommate to help with the rent. But yes.”

Then came many orange chicken and rice flavored kisses and flirtatious giggling. 

 

Dean ended up moving in completely within the week. Ash and Benny had no problem finding some UIC transfer looking for a cheap place to live near campus, and Dean didn’t really have that much to move out in the first place. Things seemed like they were gearing up to get quiet again, until Cas came out with another shock. This time it was in the car, just after he had picked Dean up from work. 

“Darling, you know I love you, right?”

“Oh, no.” Dean knew something was up when his boyfriend led with something that outstandingly mushy, “did you break the microwave again? Because I swear to God, I’ve told you about a thousand times that you can’t-”

“Baby, no, it’s not the microwave,” Cas chuckled softly before continuing, “It’s Christmas. And my family. And Los Angeles. And a whole week?”

“Ah, a little angel Novak reunion.” Dean played out the worst case scenario in his mind and figured it could not possibly be worse than what happened at Thanksgiving, “I wouldn’t miss that for the world.” 

 

The last change was not really a change at all, it began as innocent concern. One Wednesday at work, Dean heard the news. 

“Dean, have you heard about the baby, Aria?” Mrs. Sullivan spoke hushedly to him one morning as he came in.

He knew Aria, he had held her a few times while talking with Jo before and after shifts. She was a tiny little thing, only around four months old, but still smiled at Dean every time he picked her up. 

“No, what happened?” He felt himself panic, only expecting the worst. 

“It’s her mother, she’s hurt really bad. It just happened yesterday evening. A car crash, it’s so terrible. They don’t think she’ll ever recover.”

“Oh my god, that’s terrible. What about the baby? Where’s Aria going?”

“They don’t know yet. Ms. Rayne had to take her home last night and DCFS called. No known father, no next of kin. The baby has nobody. It’s so sad.” Mrs. Sullivan shook her head and shrugged at the same time, but continued to organize the papers on her desk. 

Dean’s head was spinning with sorrow for the whole rest of the day, and he just couldn’t shake the notion that that sweet little baby will not only lose her mother, but be tossed into the Chicago foster care system in the matter of days. It simply did not sit right with him. After his shift ended, when he was standing and waiting for Cas to arrive, Dean finally acted on this impulse. He pulled out his phone, searched for the DCFS service and assistance line and dialed it. 

“Hello, I’d like some information about fostering a child.”

 

The woman on the phone was still talking by the time Cas pulled into his parking spot, and Dean was crying a little, but doing his best to hold it together over the phone. She was listing rules, regulations, and hoops he would have to jump through but all he could think about was little Aria with the chocolate skin, who was almost on her own in the world, and Cas still had no idea. 

“And that about covers it. Again, just go online to access all the information and to start filling out forms, but in an emergency case, the child could be placed in your care within days. Thank you for calling. Take care.”

They said goodbye, and reality hit Dean in the gut like a sucker punch. He and Cas were inside the apartment at this point, sitting on the couch, Cas still studying him with worried eyes. The phone call had been long, and exhausting, tons of yes and no questions and a whole pile of information, and by the time it was finished, Dean had no idea what he had just done. He was still crying, and had been for the past hour or so, but now they just sat in silence. 

“Cas, I, uhm, I think I just accidentally got us a baby.”

The quiet took over again, and Dean didn’t dare to look over. 

“You what?”

“I think I just got us a foster baby.” 

“Dean,” Cas began running his hands through his hair, working himself up, completely and justifiably incredulous, “What? You fucking what? How do you just accidentally get us a foster baby without fucking telling me? Dean! What did you do?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Dean began to panic a little at this point and was crying pretty hard, “there’s this baby at work, her name is Aria. Today I found out that her mom is brain dead, and the baby has nobody and is going into the foster system. I don’t know it was so crazy, but I couldn’t just let her go like that, Cas. I couldn’t watch that baby grow up with strangers, passed from house to house. So I called Child Services and we’re first on their list for her foster parents.” 

“Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ, Dean! There are other people who are looking for babies, who have been waiting a long time for this! Why did you do this? We’re not ready for this, you’re not ready for this. Oh my god, you’re 21! You can’t just foster a baby at 21! What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know Cas, I really don’t! I just kept thinking, what if nobody keeps her? What if the first home she goes to thinks they want her, but then she ends up in the hospital with pneumonia and they just can’t handle that and their big time careers, so she gets sent off and she gets bounced around and around until she’s a seven year old who’s lived in fifteen homes and has had nobody who loves her like we can? What if we’re right for her? What if we’re her chance for a happy, normal life.”

“What about your normal life? What about your chance to be 21 and go out to dumb frat parties and get shitfaced and not have to worry about paying the babysitter when you get home?”

“Babe, I’ve done that, I’ve done all of that before. I’ve gotten drunk and slept with strangers and woken up feeling dirty and worthless. I’ve passed out in Walmart parking lots and thrown up playing laser tag. I’ve done just about every single stupid college boy thing you could possibly think of. But I also found you, and I got lucky enough to find you as early as I did. And you don’t realize that you’re it for me. I’m not just going to wake up one day and decide that I want to go back to doing stupid things and wasting my time. I want you, and I want this baby. Please, Cas, please.” Surprisingly enough, when Dean finished and looked over at his boyfriend, he was crying, single, silent tears slid down his cheeks and dropped onto his shirt front. 

“Okay.”

So they spent the rest of the night talking about the baby and how they were going to have to change their lives to make this work the right way. Then sometime, in the middle of the night, after hours of discussing and filling out forms and making late night phone calls, Dean and Cas found themselves curled around each other on the living room couch, asleep. 

 

The next few days were full of formalities. Cas and Dean went on a huge shopping trip, converting the apartment’s cluttered office into a suitable nursery for a baby. They bought out half of Buy Buy Baby and Babies R Us, all the while getting sideways glances from workers and pregnant women. They met with countless Child Services workers who interviewed them, surveyed their home and environment, collected information on their work, salaries, and schooling, prying into nearly every aspect of their lives, to make sure they’re suited. Until, finally, the day came. They had been cleared. One social worker said that, even with Dean’s age, they were one of the best qualified couples they had come across in a long while. The more prepared the pair got, the more excited they became, and all of the fretting and worrying was pushed to the side for a while. 

They got their baby on a Friday. She had been cared for in a state run group home for the past four days while everything was getting pushed through with Cas and Dean. They had both taken the whole week off of work, and were both sitting in the nursery when the doorbell rang. Both of their hearts stuttered a moment as they realized that this was the moment before their life was going to change forever. They hurried to the front door, the early December air was bitter and unforgiving. The social worker, Donna, was there, holding a tightly wrapped bundle of purple and pink, with another government worker who Dean had never seen before, stood behind, carrying a small black duffle bag and a brief case. They welcomed them in, and had tea and juice already out and ready. Donna and the other woman, she introduced herself as Sandy, took off their wet shoes then turned to face the couple who awaited nervously in front of them. 

“So here’s your little Aria!” Donna beamed as she unwrapped the tiny thing in her arms, revealing a little baby sleeping in a pink striped sleeper, sucking on a pacifier, and handed her over to Dean. 

Cas was by his shoulder immediately, and it didn’t even take a minute of looking at their new child’s smooth, dark skin and playful curls for them to both be in tears. Just before Dean decided that he would never let her go, he passed her over to his boyfriend. That sight was enough to make him cry even harder. Cas cradling Aria in one arm and holding her tiny fist with the other was the only sight Dean ever wanted to see. 

Donna and Sandy, bless their hearts, stood patiently while the two marvelled over their new addition. Finally, the group went to the table and finished up some final paperwork while Aria dozed in Cas’s arms. When the women left, Dean was holding the baby, rocking her gently as they said goodbye. Then, suddenly all alone, Cas and Dean spent the night in the nursery right next to their new miracle.


End file.
